


FFVIII Trick or Treat ficbits (2)

by mercuriosity



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-21
Updated: 2007-10-21
Packaged: 2017-10-06 09:44:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercuriosity/pseuds/mercuriosity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ties that bind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	FFVIII Trick or Treat ficbits (2)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Trick or Treat ficbit meme](http://bottle-of-shine.livejournal.com/234068.html) at bottle_of_shine's LJ.
> 
> Prompt: Seifer, Quistis, red ribbons and haircuts.

If he's not here, his room can be used for someone else, they said, and handed her a box.

That was what it came down to, Quistis thought, watching her reflection mechanically pack up the few items atop the dresser; the sum total of ten years in Garden: a cardboard box and a report filed under M for "Missing." Which wasn't strictly accurate—they knew exactly where he was—but Quistis guessed there wasn't a file yet for "Betrayed Garden and country to become Sorceress' Knight." Seifer always did have to be the first in everything.

It didn't take more than a few minutes to pack everything away; the room was remarkably bare and impersonal to start with, hardly a hint of the larger-than-life personality of its owner. No posters on the wall, no family pictures (though that wasn't unusual in Garden)—just neatly-folded clothes, a few books, some toiletries; and a single postcard tucked into the mirror frame, featuring a city skyline Quistis couldn't immediately place. It was is if he'd never really lived there—and as soon as she thought it, she realized that maybe, to his mind, he hadn't; which bothered her more than she wanted to think about.

Something red peeking out between the pages of one of the books caught her eye, and she flipped it open. It was a simple ribbon, seven or eight inches long, and a bit frayed at the ends. She felt a vague stirring of memory, looking at it; and though she spared a moment to chastise herself for being silly, she slipped it into her pocket anyway.

Well, it wasn't as if anyone would miss it. Certainly not Seifer. _He's not coming back_, she reminded herself, and let the door shut behind her.

\---

She found him behind one of the outcroppings of rock that were scattered along the length of the shore, slicing the air vigorously with a stick worn smooth by the sea.

"There you are," she said, hands on her hips. "Matron said you were hiding out here."

"I'm not hiding," Seifer retorted. "I just wanna be left alone."

"Nuh-uh! Matron said you have to go to the doctor but you're hiding from her."

"So I don't wanna go to the stupid doctor. You can't make me."

"Do you want to get sick?" Quistis cried, in her best imitation of Matron's If-You-Know-What's-Good-For-You tone. "You might get pneumonia and die, and you wouldn't be so tough _then_, would you?" (She didn't know what pneumonia was exactly, but she was pretty sure people died of it sometimes.)

Seifer blanched a little at that but set his mouth in a stubborn line. "I just don't like doctors," he muttered. "All they do is stick you with needles and last time he gave me a lollipop, like I was a little _kid_."

Quistis was silent for a moment. "Are you afraid of getting a shot?" she said. Seifer opened his mouth to protest, but she went on, "I don't like them either, but Matron always buys me ice cream after. Anyway, remember when you fell off the ladder and broke your arm? I bet that hurt worse."

"That's true..." Seifer said, contemplative. He'd certainly made a show of it at the time, wearing the cast like a badge of honor and bragging about how he'd hardly cried at all.

Quistis thought a moment longer and then scrambled down from the rock she was perched on. "Here," she said, untying the ribbon that was holding her hair back; she held it out to Seifer.

"What's that for?" he said, eyeing it skeptically.

"Put your wrist out, silly," she said, and tied the ribbon on when he did so. "I'm getting my hair cut when we go into town, so I won't need it anymore. For you, it can be a...a talisman. For good luck. And strength."

Seifer looked down at the red band circling his wrist.

"Sounds dumb," he said finally, but he leapt nimbly over the rocks and ran back to the house while Quistis yelled at him indignantly to wait up.

\---

She tracked him down on a pier next to a sea that was the same but different, and hesitated when he turned around to face her.

_I never thought I'd see you again_, she didn't say; she thought, remembering his empty room, he probably knew that.

"Here," she said instead, digging the ribbon out of her pocket and holding it out to him. "This is yours."

He frowned, but without bitterness—only slightly puzzled. "Thanks," he said, and reached out to take it. He looked healthy, she noted, kissed by the sun and sea air; not at all like the faded and worn version she'd seen last; and Quistis looked down at where their hands were linked by a single red thread and allowed herself, finally, to hope.


End file.
